Tom Ramcigam (magicmarmot) wrote,
Tom Ramcigam
magicmarmot

I feel like writing today, feel like trying to purge the bad feelings out of my body, to get them out on paper (or into the aether) and away from me. It's like writing is a form of healing, of catharsis. I suppose it is. I hope it is.

One of my greatest fears is to become mundane, to be someone with no imagination, no passion, someone who has "good enough" imprinted on his forehead in letters invisible to the naked eye, but glowing brightly whenever there is opportunity for deviance. Certainly in my head I'm not mundane, but what of my actions? What have I truly done that makes me something other than an overweight middle-aged white guy?

What happened to the fame? The legions of adoring fans?

(Introspection alert: Beware! Introspection ahead!)

Something that I recognize in myself is the inability to follow through on stuff. I manage to start things well, but have difficulty staying on track in the long term. It's a trait that I don't particularly like, but even knowing it and knowing that I dislike it doesn't mean that I know how to fix it.

There's another deeper bit, in that sometimes I can sabotage myself. It's related to the follow-through trait, but is more insidious. It's like I'll start a project, something big and involved, and then do something to fuck it up or delay it so that I never finish it. It's gotten more subtle over the years in that the reasons for the failure and delay are less directly tied to me and are tied up in red tape and outside influences, but the reality is that they are simply more sophisticated tools for the same thing.

It stems from being raised with the knowledge that whatever I did wasn't good enough: no matter how good I did, there was always something more I could have done, something better. It's a set of conditioning that I refer to as the Ghost of my Father, but blaming him is useless and counterproductive: I own my own weaknesses.

Knowing there is a problem isn't the same as solving the problem.

Come on catharsis, I'm still waiting.
Tags: navel gazing
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